


Degenerates

by salamandelbrot



Series: Old School Wrasslesmut [19]
Category: World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: 1999, Authority Figures, Consent Play, Kayfabe Compliant, Multi, Sexual Roleplay, Watersports
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-30
Updated: 2016-06-30
Packaged: 2018-07-19 04:00:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,126
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7343935
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/salamandelbrot/pseuds/salamandelbrot
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steph, Shawn, and Hunter play casting couch.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Degenerates

**Author's Note:**

> Set vaguely in the time period when Hunter and Steph are secret newlyweds.

For a guy in bed with two other people, Hunter woke up unreasonably chilly. He smacked the beeping alarm, then rolled over to survey the bed. It looked like Stephanie and Shawn's ongoing war for blanket hegemony had left them and the blankets all tangled up in the corner. Still, he thought, propping himself up on an elbow to watch, they did look cute. 

"Make me coffee?" Steph mumbled hopefully. 

Shawn groaned and hid his face against her shoulder. "Why me?" 

Stephanie's arm was still thrown over her eyes to block out the light and she didn't look any more inclined to more than Shawn. "Beacause I'm your boss and I say so." 

With a pitiful moan, Shawn flopped off the bed and to his feet. He rolled his shoulders and Hunter could hear the popping from his spot on the bed. 

While Shawn shuffled around the corner, Hunter took the opportunity to snuggle up to his wife and steal back some blankets. Steph wound a hand lazily in his hair. "Hey, babe." 

"Hey." He kissed the top of her head. "You picking on Shawn?" 

"Mm-hm." They cuddled in companionable silence until Shawn re-appeared carrying two styrofoam hotel cups of coffee and Stephanie wriggled her way to a sitting position. "I'm taking advantatage of you," she informed him, accepting a cup, "because you're short." 

"Damn." Shawn perched on the bed beside them and sipped his coffee. "The dirtsheets always made this sound more fun." 

Her hand crept up his thigh. "I can be fun." 

"Oh yeah?" Shawn grinned at her. 

"Why don't you stop by my office later so we can," she paused, squeezing his thigh, "discuss your position?" Her eyes slid to Hunter. "What do you think, babe? Is DX on the chopping block?" 

"I think," said Hunter, trying to sound nonchalant, "that DX is doing okay for now. We sell a lot of merch." The thing about Steph and Shawn, he had rapidly learned, was that they egged each other on. Everything got a little wild with the two of them bouncing off each other. 

She laughed and kissed him on the ear. "Okay." 

"Maybe you can rescue me?" Shawn asked with a coy smile. 

Now _that_ idea made Hunter's dick jump. "I could do that." 

Six-hours later he was standing guard outside Vince's office, wondering how he'd gotten himself into this. When Steph had said _her_ office, he hadn't thought too hard about what she meant. In retrospect, that might have been a mistake. 

Steph was dressed in a navy blue skirt suit and smoking a big cigar with her feet on the desk, too-high heels knocking papers into disarray. He knew she wasn't wearing underwear because she'd flashed her legs open at him when he'd given her the all clear sign. She looked like what his mother had called her just before she'd cut off Hunter's allowance, a jumped up carny jade. Unlike dear old mom, though, he loved the look. 

"Hunter?" Shawn's voice, soft and hesitant, drew his attention. He looked vulnereable, standing outside McMahon's office in his rattiest pair of jeans and a too big t-shirt he must have borrowed from Hunter's luggage, and the way he was looking up at Hunter said he knew it. God, Shawn could play him when he wanted to. 

"Go on," Hunter said, fighting the urge to wrap his arms around him now. With a nod, Shawn slipped into the office. 

"Mrs. McMahon?" Hunter heard him say. 

"Shawn. Come in. What's on your mind?" 

"I wanted to talk about a title shot." 

Stephanie laughed. "Now there's a match I could market." 

"You could." Hunter could picture the scene. Stephanie's easy arrogance, the determined set of Shawn's jaw. He slid a hand into his pocket and rubbed his hardening cock. 

"Oh, I'm sure you had lots of fans in your territory," she said airily. "Little pretty-boy tag specialist like you? The teenyboppers love it. But you're in the big leagues now." 

"What can I do to convince you?" asked Shawn. "Because I've been winning my matches and-" 

"Oh, all right," sighed Stephanie. "Let's see what we're working with. Take off your shirt. Ah-ah-ah, not like that. Showmanship, Shawn." 

Hunter could picture Shawn's strip routine, he'd seen it enough times over the years. But maybe this time, it would be different. Tinged with a little reluctance. Maybe Shawn was biting his lip and refusing to look at Stephanie. Maybe he was shivering a little. 

"And the rest." 

"Mrs. McMahon-" 

"Now, Shawn." Stephanie's voice was bored. "Go on." 

After a minute of tense silence, Hunter could hear her heels on the hardwood as she stalked around Shawn. "You just don't have a good enough body." Hunter took a peek through the door in time to see Stephanie trailing her fingers over the heart at Shawn's bare hip. "You're too small. I don't see why I should put you in a title match when you've got no chance and everyone knows it." 

"I do have a chance." Hunter could see Shawn trembling. "I can win. Mrs. McMahon, I'm _good_." 

Stephanie walked away and sat back down behind her desk, smirking. "Oh? Well, how about you do something for me, and I'll do something for you." 

Shawn flinched back. "I don't- I don't know what you mean." 

"Oh, I think you do." She beckoned to him and Shawn stepped hesitantly behind the desk, sliding to his knees, out of Hunter's view. "Show me some of those famous skills of yours."

Stephanie's lips parted in silent pleasure and she settled back in the chair, closing her eyes. Hunter watched her breathing, watched her grip the arms of the executive chair, before sliding one hand down in front of her, almost certainly grabbing a handful of Shawn's hair. 

At the sound of footsteps, he spun to face the corridor and tried his best to look innocent. "Hi, JR!" he said loudly, hoping Stephanie and Shawn would hear. 

JR nodded at the greeting. "Hunter. Is Mr. McMahon in?" 

"No! I'm just waiting for him. I'll tell him you called." He plastered a smile on his face. He knew JR wasn't exactly fooled but, mercifully, he didn't seem inclined to pry. 

"You do that," JR said dryly, turning back down the hall. 

Heaving a sigh, Hunter leaned back against the door. After a little while, he began to hear Stephanie's gasps and moans. 

"That's right. I knew you'd done this before. Probably with half the NWA, isn't that right?" 

Hunter heard Shawn's muffled protest, followed by a sharp slap. 

"Don't lie to me. I know your type. And I didn't say you could stop." 

Unable to resist, he turned back to watch Stephanie rock in the leather chair, head thrown back in pleasure. She wailed when she came and he heard her kick the underside of the desk. He hoped, even as he squeezed his aching cock through his pants, that there was no one on this floor to hear. 

Chest heaving, sweat glistening at her temples, Stephanie leaned back to collect herself. After a few more breaths, she said, "Now open your mouth. I have to piss." 

Figuring that was his cue to save Shawn from unthinkable depravity, Hunter burst through the door. 

"What are you doing?" he cried at what he judged to be a safe volume, carefully closing the door behind him. 

Stephanie's low, throaty laugh was utterly debauched, "Why don't you come see, Helmsley? Maybe you can have a turn." 

He strode forward, prepared to scoop Steph out of her chair and set her evil butt on the desk while he dramatically discovered Shawn - he could be wild too! - and promptly froze when he heard Shawn's half-sobbing cough. Stephanie cast a disgusted look down. "Don't you _dare_ vomit, that carpet's worth more than you are." 

A jolt shot through him and for an instant he had the crazy idea he might come right then, just from the cloth of his own boxers and the knowledge that wicked promoter Stephanie had just forced poor, downtrodden Shawn to drink her piss. God, these two would be the death of him. His hands shook as he lifted Stephanie from the chair, her feet kicking in the air until he set her on a stack of papers. 

She let her legs splay open, showing him how wet she was. She'd lost a shoe in the trip from her chair and the sheer, devil-may-care filth of the picture she presented, dripping on the hardwood of the desk, took his breath away. 

With mock sweetness, she asked, "Do you want to wipe me too, Helmsley?" before roaring with laughter at his shocked expression. "That's right! Come on, slap me!" 

"Uh-uh." Hunter shook his head. "Sorry, babe." 

She snorted, smiling fondly at him. "Oh, fine." 

A somewhat pointed sob from under the desk caught their attention and Stephanie grinned, pointing one gaudily manicured finger down. Hunter got the message. 

"Shawnie?" He crouched down and saw Shawn scoot back into the corner, eyes wide and shining. Hunter could see a pubic hair stuck to his cheek like a stray eyelash. "Shawn, it's okay, it's just me." 

Shawn threw himself into Hunter's arms. "Oh, Hunter!"

"Shh." The ache in his chest and the ache in his cock thrummed sweetly as he held Shawn close and stroked his back. "You're safe now, I've got you." 

Slowly, he guided Shawn back with him, pulling him up so Hunter could sit in the chair with Shawn on his lap, where Steph could watch. "No one's going to do that to you again, I'm going to protect you," he said, dick throbbing against Shawn's thigh. 

Shawn rocked in his lap, breath quickening against his neck. "Do you still love me?" he prompted. 

"So much," Hunter half moaned. "So much, baby, nothing will ever change that." He pulled Shawn close and stroked his hair. 

He cooed reassurances and tried not to groan while Shawn rode him through his clothes. When he felt the hot, wet splash of come through his shirt and heard Shawn's breathless whimper, he knew he wouldn't last long. "Shawn, sweetheart, not going to let anyone hurt you," he panted. Shawn clung to him, letting Hunter thrust against his bare hip. "I'll keep you safe, oh-" He moaned, arms tightening around Shawn as he shook through his own climax. 

They stayed like that, breathing together, until Hunter heard a muffled snicker and swatted Shawn's bare ass. "Don't laugh, it's very emotional." The giggling against his shoulder intensified. "I love you very much, and you're all traumatized thanks to evil boss lady over there." 

"Oh, he loved it," crowed the aforementioned evil boss lady. 

"Nuh-uh," Shawn laughed, leaning over to snag Steph's shoe off the floor and toss it at her, "you took advantage of poor, little me!" 

By the time Hunter felt the chair beginning to tip, it was too late. They fell with a crash. 

"Shit!" Stephanie hopped off the desk and knelt beside them, alarm clear on her face. 

"I'm okay," gasped Shawn, sliding himself off the wreckage to lie very still and flat on the floor. Hunter strongly suspected he wasn't _that_ okay. 

With Steph's help, Hunter disentangled himself from the chair - well, half a chair - and stood to survey the damage. They'd taken a lamp out with them, and he could see a scuff marks on the wood of the desk. The price tag he came up with in his head wouldn't have fazed him last year, but now he was thinking they'd better scram. 

From the floor, Shawn looked between his and Steph's worried faces. "I'm _fine._ Just give me a minute and I'll fucking kip up." He let out a slighly hysterical laugh. 

Steph took a knee at his side and leaned down to kiss him. "How about, in the interest of a quick getaway, me and Hunter each grab a hand, huh?" 

Shawn squeezed his eyes shut and took a deep breath before holding both hands up. "Okay." 

Steph and Hunter hauled him to his feet and into a tight hug. Hunter kissed the top of his head, then Stephanie's. "Okay, degenerates, let's get the hell out of Dodge." 

Stephanie beamed as she grabbed Shawn's clothes off the floor and tossed them to him. "Have you two ever caused this much property damage on your own?" 

Shawn snorted. "I don't think so," he said, pulling on his shirt and pants and shoving socks and boxers into his pockets. 

"Hah!" She did an enthusiastic crotch chop. "Suck it! Again!" 

The three of them froze at the ding of the elevator, silently casting frantic looks at each other. Then, as one, they bolted for the stairs, Shawn and Stephanie carrying their shoes in their hands.


End file.
